The Most Dangerous Game Sequel
by lexieconextreme
Summary: My version of a sequel to The Most Dangerous Game. Prompt from my English teacher. (Possibly more to come?)


He had never slept in a better bed, Rainsford decided.

The next morning, Rainsford tried to decide whether he should look out the window. Ultimately, he decided it was not a good idea. The window was still open from the night before, so the smell of rotting flesh drifted in through the window. That was enough for him. Dimly, he remembered tossing Zaroff out the window as he had pulled a knife on Rainsford. Rainsford shuddered as he recalled the sounds the dogs, and more specifically Zaroff, had made while the hounds tore Zaroff's body to pieces.

One of the next things to decide was how to get off the island. But that could wait. It had been a day at least since he had last eaten. So he walked cautiously down the stairs to find the kitchen. He wasn't sure if Zaroff had had any more loyal servants walking about the place, so he kept a wary eye out. When he found the kitchen, he helped himself to anything he could find. It wasn't as if Zaroff would care.

As he sat down at the table to eat his breakfast, he remembered something from his second night on this God-forsaken island. Zaroff had said something about captives. Zaroff hunted continually, but ships didn't crash that often. Rainsford severely doubted that Zaroff had anyone on any mainland wealthy enough to ship more captives to him regularly. _He must have a small prison somewhere in the house_ Rainsford thought to himself.

Rainsford thought while he chewed. He didn't really feel hungry anymore, but he knew he must keep up his strength in case there were any more surprises on the island. There might be a holding place in the basement, big enough to hold a hundred captives to keep Zaroff happy, or not bored in any case. If the basement was the same size as the house, it might be big enough to hold that amount. Then Rainsford thought about how there probably weren't any visitors that were not turned into sport. Which meant that Zaroff wouldn't need to put captives in the basement. He could have just cordoned off a section of the house, or created the prison as part of the original floor plans.

If that was the case, that meant that there were almost certainly prisoners somewhere in the house, basement or not. Rainsford rocketed to his feet at the thought. He went throughout the house, trying to find any door that could lead to where Zaroof had kept the prisoners. Having gone through the entire house, Rainsford decided that Zaroff had had no other servants other than Ivan. He decided to take a risk, and started calling out to see if there was _anyone_ in the house. "Hello?" he yelled as loudly as he could. "Hello, is anyone there?"

Distantly, Rainsford heard muffled shouts. He tried to stay as silent as he could to find where they came from. The yells seemed louder coming down the right hallway, so Rainsford took off toward the sound. The imprisoned men's shouts got louder and louder as he went farther down the hall. Suddenly, it seemed to Rainsford as if the shouts were becoming more distant, fading. Turning, he slowly walked back down the hall. "Hello?" he asked. The sounds had stopped as suddenly as they had started.

"Hello", he yelled louder. "We're in here", a man's deep voice called. His words were muffled, but definitely close. "Keep talking", Rainsford called. "That will help me find you." The man continued talking while Rainsford listened as best as he could to figure out where the sound was coming from. "Zaroff put us in this room. I think he insulated the room in order to keep others who came here oblivious to us until he threw the poor sap in here." Rainsford agreed with the man. He hadn't known these men were here until now, and he was sure Zaroff would take precautions in case anything like what happened the night he came here happened. The man had continued talking while Rainsford looked for a door that could lead to where the men were being held. The only problem was, there didn't seem to be a door. Rainsford listened to the man talking, ultimately deciding that the men weren't being held below.

He thought of some books he'd read back home. Houses like this often had...secret passages. He slid his hands against the wall where it seemed the man's voice was loudest. His finger hit something one wouldn't generally find on a wall. It was a small button. It was camouflaged against the wallpaper and paint, and was right next to a giant painting a big blue box. It wouldn't be easily found unless you knew for certain it was there. He pressed the button. The door flew open and a crowd spilled out into the corridor.

Rainsford jumped back quickly to avoid being run over. After all he had just went through with Zaroff, he wasn't keen to be killed by a crowd. A tall man walked toward Rainsford and held out his hand. "Thank you for helping us. I am Will Herondale. I assume you dealt with that monstrosity of a human-being or you wouldn't be here Congratulations." Herondale paused for breath before continuing. "Now, what do you say to getting off this island where so many terrible things have happened?"

"I think that sounds like a very good idea," Rainsford replied.

One of the other men came up to the two men and said, "Did you disable the explosive?"

"What explosive?" Rainsford asked, worried.

"The explosive that Zaroff had set to explode if he didn't reset it every twelve hours."

The house exploded into an inferno and a mushroom cloud of smoke and ash, taking out everything in it's path.


End file.
